


Love powder

by CruzLucia



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: M/M, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruzLucia/pseuds/CruzLucia
Summary: Jesse is allowed to return to the lab, but Gale must also stay: Jesse never believed that being Walt's only partner would be such an irrepressible desire.Or Jesse is jealous of Gale and Walt's relationship and tries to get attention.
Relationships: Jesse Pinkman/Walter White
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

At first, you don't understand what is bothering you so much.

He's always annoyed and irritated around Mr. White, however, something that won't change as the VR lab was upgraded to a larger, more professional lab, so he just ignores the sentiment and continues with your routine.

Faced with the persistent discomfort and constant distraction that buzzes in his ears, making him even more hyperactive, he wonders if the problem is with his colleagues: he is not stupid, he knows that Gale is much better than him and Walt is delighted with his work, while that Jesse just yells and yells at him, so maybe the fear comes from there.

_"Don't do this, Jesse"_

_"How many times do I have to explain the bullion to you? It's like I've never taught you chemistry!"_

_"Why don't you copy Gale's process and stop messing it up?"_

He doesn't want to be the third, the unintelligent and ignorant one, who is always left behind in conversations.

Yes, that must be it. Totally. Jesse might not be a great chemist, but he was great, more so than any of the two old men who worked with him.

Or that he mutters over and over again, when the irritation is too much to ignore, until he sees Gale flatter Mr. White and blush when he received a smile in return. Mr. White must not even notice how delighted Gale is with him, especially since he always seems somewhat overwhelmed by their long conversations, as if hearing the other chemist talk for hours about something nerdy is not something he likes.

But Jesse does. See how Gale is always one step ahead, ready to show off his intelligence and how much better than Jesse, in any way and in any arena.

Putting it all together, with the fact that Jesse's cell phone had broken and he had to spend his hours at the lab listening to them talk, not being able to hear music, the boy ended the day with anger bubbling up pressing in his stomach.

He changed quickly, tossing his clothes into the closet, and disappeared before Mr. White tried to carry on a conversation or scold him for his bad manners.

There was no way he was jealous of Mr. White. It was like ... being jealous of Saul or some shit. Or Mike. Fucking strange.

Only Mr. White wasn't Mike or Saul, but rather some kind of partner. Jesse was sorry to know him more than he knew himself, easily reading his mood swings, as well as the moments when he entered his "Heigsenberg" phase.

Sometimes Jesse wanted to beat himself up for his silly thoughts. Like Mr. White was more than just an old fool and lab buddy, for God's sake.

"Jesse" He hears someone say, startling him, before he manages to sneak down the stairs, on his way to his car, "Think you can handle the packing?"

Jesse frowned, about to unzip his hideous yellow suit.

"Isn't that Gale's job?"

"Today I have to leave earlier" The aforementioned replied, smiling in that soft and warm way that brings more frustration to Jesse's mind, especially if he sees her addressed to Mr. White, "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, I assure you that she will not return to repeat..."

"Whatever, yo" Jesse rolled his eyes and slammed his locker shut.

She heard him thank her behind her back, but she didn't turn around, just shaking her hand. How much he wanted to have his headphones at that moment; the atmosphere with Mr. White was a bit tense, although he did not speak to him, since he had excluded himself at his table, with graphics and notes in front of his nose.

He began to pack the methamphetamine as quickly as possible, feeling anxious about getting the perfect measure and finishing as quickly as possible. He carried her into the elevator once he was done, sighing at her bruised hands, and resumed his way to the lockers.

"Jesse" Mr. White called out to him, "Good job, kid."

Jesse stopped short, surprised.

_He's not telling it to you, damn Gale._

At the thought, he recoiled in some horror, not responding to Mr. White and beginning to change at full speed. What the hell. He really wasn't starting to get like a kid in high school, competing with his peers with the prettiest girl in the room ... just as he wouldn't continue to think of Mr. White as a pretty girl.

That thing was kind of gay. And Jesse wasn't gay at all.

Rejecting those thoughts didn't stop the nervousness from creeping through Jesse's skin, making him unable to focus on anything more than that.

By seven, Jesse was terribly restless, worse than a hyperactive child, so he decided to eat quickly, ignoring the insistent calls from his friends, and went to bed. It was unseemly for him to sleep so early or decline an outing, even if he wasn't wasted. This whole lab thing was driving him crazy.

And, as he noticed hours later, it would haunt him even in dreams.

It all started in a blurry way: first, Jesse wasn't able to see much more than black, a sharp, penetrating color, until it began to take on a hazy shape. Mr. White. Mr. White talking to him, lying on the bed, and saying shit that made him shudder when he woke up, even if it was the product of his imagination.

"That's right, Jesse" He would say, baffling him at all, because, although she didn't expect a dream at all, she didn't think her imagination would be based on Mr. White complimenting her; "You're a good boy".

Like he's a dog, for God's sake.

However, Jesse was terribly embarrassed to admit that upon awakening, the words brought him even more blush, sweat, and a strange electricity. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands, almost disgusted.

He had just dreamed of his old chemistry teacher, someone with whom he was barely tolerated: he hadn't even had such dreams with Jane, which worried him and pushed him to the limit.

He slid a hand down his stomach and tugged on his boxers, biting his lip. It must be a coincidence that he had an erection, probably the product of accidental friction, which was not related to Mr. White at all.

He traced the line of his dick with one hand, before pulling with moderate force. It only took a few strokes to arch him, thrusting his hips into the air as he moaned incomprehensible words and a name that froze him on the spot.

"Oh please, Mr. White ..."

Jesse, apparently, was screwed.


	2. Capítulo 2

Jesse doesn't know what the hell to do with himself when he reaches the laundry building, under which the lab is located.

He has smoked half a pack of cigarettes on the way there, unable to erase that feeling of apprehension that floods his chest, and, although he is about to take out another one, he sees Gale's car and decides that he cannot be inferior in something else: at least, it can be punctual.

The scene you are in does nothing to improve your mood. Mr. White and Gale giggle at the table, and Jesse has to do a lot of self-control not to yell "I, Bitch" and ruin their moment. He wants to do it. A lot. But instead he decides to behave in a mature manner, feigning selflessness and superiority.

Besides, he doesn't think he can bear Mr. White's gaze on him without remembering the dream of the night before.

So, he goes to work, changing his street clothes for that useless yellow suit, hoping that none of the men would notice his presence.

Luck never seems to be on Jesse's side;

"Jesse" Gale calls, surprised, overpowering Mr. White, "I didn't know you were there. How are you doing? Would u like some coffe?

Jesse hates him for being so correct, kind, and humble. It makes the feeling of jealousy and selfishness that gnaws at your stomach even more inexplicable.

"No man, that thing is horrible" Seeing Mr. White's wary gaze and Gale's almost hurt face, he feels flushed "Hey, I didn't mean yours. I just don't like coffee."

"Oh, can I offer water then?"

The boy's gaze, almost instantly, strays to Mr. White. Which is a serious mistake, since the man is already looking at him and the meeting of their gazes makes Jesse blush.

He hurried away, shaking his shoulders and shaking his head.

"No no, we'd better get started."

The others exchange a look. Jesse is never eager to get to work, entertaining himself with whatever items he might find on the shelves, but neither of them complain and they soon find themselves getting into a safe routine.

It is as if nothing could penetrate the thick walls of the laboratory, which allows him ease and soon leads him to work rhythmically, following the steps by heart, without hesitating for a moment.

His mind is a mess of _Mr. Whitegoodboycomplimentsdreams_ or any other random thought that comes along to occupy his attention. And having the guy in front of him, muttering instructions to him from time to time and stopping to admire his work, only made the memory return to his mind over and over again.

"That's right" he said, once he was forced to step away from Gale's talk to position himself next to him, working with liquids "Well done Jesse, you're doing great."

Oh.

_Oh._

Jesse didn't know if he could take any more. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, the suit began to feel too heavy, and his pants ... hell, the fabric of his jeans seemed about to burst as his penis hardened.

So, that was it. The fucking compliments, or whatever.

But not just any compliment, from just anyone. He liked Mr. White's, for a twisted reason.

And, for some other reason that he didn't want to start analyzing, he hated that most of his words were directed at the perfect Gale, who always stayed in line and didn't spoil anything.

Jesse stopped, tilting his head forward, and turned to reach for a certain tool, which he found on the other side of the table, next to his partner. His eyes were narrowed in concentration and Jesse knew he would burst into angry murmurs if she interrupted him, so he went to find her by himself, sticking as much as possible to the wall of the small space and crossing to the other side, brushing slightly. Mr. White ...

He got a look in return. A strange look.

He tried to forget the matter, but his little problem didn't seem like he wanted to go away anytime soon. And Mr. White, insatiable with curiosity as only he could be, kept looking at him. Jesse knew he was acting strange and uptight, more than usual, so he tried to relax and pretend to be calm.

"You're good?"

"Sure, me, why wouldn't I be?"

Jesse blushed and looked down. Mr. White frowned further; Gale, meanwhile, noticed absolutely nothing, which is why he was greatly surprised when it came time to pack the methamphetamine and Mr. White stopped him with a friendly smile.

"Jesse will take care of that" he said, surprising the aforementioned, "Sorry, we need to talk about some things"

Gale looked hurt, but he didn't let the sentiment show, rushing to shrug and walk over to his closet. He was clearly eager to hear, either out of his own curiosity or to inform Gus, as he was still glancing at them and taking longer than usual. Mr. White did not begin to speak until his third partner had completely disappeared, leaving behind the smell of cheap cologne.

"So, I ..." Jesse started, uncomfortable, "Any reason why you don't want the smart doctor?

"Smart doctor?"

"You know, your favorite"

Oh, he thought, as Mr. White gave him a confused look; I shouldn't have said that.

"Anyway," he continued, "What did you want to talk about?"

"Show me what you're stealing"

For a few moments, Jesse stood still, not understanding the question. Then, almost instantaneously, he walked away with an expression of infinite offense and put a hand to his chest, completely unprepared at such an accusation.

"Excuse me, Mr. White? I didn't steal anything!"

"You act strange ..."

"And that's an excuse to believe he would steal? The other nerdy fool talks about Frodo all damn day and you don't tell him he's insane!"

Mr. White seemed to find it amusing, because his mouth turned up impatiently, but it wasn't enough to take down his suspicions and usual grumpy humor.

"I felt it when you walked behind me, Jesse," he accused, his eyes drooping, and froze the boy on the spot, "Plus you're very nervous and quiet."

Jesse wanted to shoot himself, right there. He couldn't believe this was happening, seriously, because while he might make up an excuse to get him off the hook, Mr. White was no fool. He wouldn't believe his words unless he had proof and, well, Jesse wasn't going to show him his boner and say-oh, sorry, this was touching your back.

"I wasn't stealing" He tried saying, carefully, before running his hands through his pockets and showing that they were empty. He had to arch back slightly, biting his lip as he accidentally brushed his penis, but he didn't think Mr. White was going to notice.

"You don't have it in your pockets" Mr. White contradicted, crossing his arms, "Take off your suit."

Jesse went pale, which was instantly misunderstood.

"I knew it" The man added.

"No, Mr. White ..."

"Take off your suit, Jesse."

"I promise, I'm not stealing."

"I thought we had already gone through this stage of mistrust."

"And we did" The boy rushed to assure, scared, "But no ... I can't."

He looked puzzled. Jesse couldn't blame him, considering his words were pointless and useless, further heightening suspicion towards his actions.

"You can not?" He replied, in a muffled voice, "You understand that I'm protecting you, right? If Mr. Gus finds out, he might take action on his own. Stealing from him is the last thing you want to do, Jesse, believe me when I tell you ..."

He stopped short.

Frustrated, Jesse had made a quick and insane decision, unzipping his suit.

"That ..." Mr. White's mouth was open in surprise, staring at Jesse's notorious erection with wide eyes.

"I had a little damn problem" HE replied, shaking his lip in embarrassment and shyness, "Okay? Sorry if I didn't want to warn you about it."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ..., I didn't ..."

"Okay, Mr. White," Jesse muttered softly, reseating his suit. Seeing the other man so self-conscious brought a feeling of strange warmth, "Just ... do you think I can take care of it?"

Jesse's gaze flew to the small break room and his cock throbbed with anticipation. God, he wanted to break free right there. I know not to have blue balls or Mr. White's piercing eyes on him.

"As you wish" Mr. White said, in a choked voice, turning around and avoiding looking at him, "Come back quickly, there is work to be done."

Jesse wasted no time in nodding or thanking. He basically ran into the living room, closing the door behind him, and flung himself onto the couch, yanking his suit off. When he released his member, he could only let out a sigh.

He put a hand in his mouth, just to catch the sounds, and began to make gentle movements with his hands, trying to think of anything. Girls Yes, I would think of girls. Like Andrea, who he spoke to only once, but still found her pretty and was the only person Jesse had ever interacted with besides Mr. White.

Mr. White. Involuntarily, his pulse raced.

His hand moved faster, squeezing justly, and Jesse found himself arched over the couch, freeing his mouth to reach for the nearest fabric and hold onto it tightly.

"Oh hell, please, please ..." He threw his head back, unable to stop himself, biting his lip so hard he felt it bleed. He hoped his voice was low, so the other man couldn't hear him, but in this state he cared little.

"Shit, shit," he muttered, feeling the orgasm closer and closer, "Shit, Mr. White, I'm so ..."

It came in spurts, hitting his bare stomach, and he had to lie down for one intact to catch his breath. It had been damn good. Better than he had last night, at least.

He sat up and started pulling up his pants, biting his lip and remembering ...

Remembering that she had just moaned Mr. White's name.

Jesse stopped by the door and put a hand to his forehead. No, no, no, no, that was terrible.

Although maybe it wasn't that bad, considering the door was closed and, with his other moans, he could have been confused. Yes, Mr. White must have had no idea or reason to think that he had whispered his name. It would be silly to think about it, not knowing about Jesse's dream or his strange fondness for compliments.

All thoughts and relief were erased when he opened the door.

The laboratory was empty: neither Mr. White nor his things were there.

Oh, now Jesse had really screwed it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise to update as quickly as possible!


	3. Chapter 3

Jesse had to form a quick plan. He couldn't just show up in the lab and look Mr. White in the face, especially knowing that the man knew.

He could fake his death and take Saul's advice, going with that friend of his who made people disappear. Yes. It sounded more logical than standing in front of his partner and explaining why he'd moaned his name while jerking off, which, well, even he couldn't quite get over it. Another option was to face it, to be a man.

No, Jesse didn't like the last option. Call him a coward, but there was only a small handful of things he avoided doing and this one, especially this one, got into them.

However, when it struck eight o'clock, he told himself that he should get going. Mr. White was always furious when he was late and Jesse didn't want to add that to the list, especially considering the need to be better than Gale and get Mr. White's attention frequently. It was such a great desire that, for a moment, it left Jesse bewildered.

"Yo, Mr. White" He greeted, biting his lip as he found himself alone with the man. He couldn't believe his bad luck: Gale must have died, or something, because he wasn't around with his dull, boring talk. "How is it going?"

Mr. White turned to look at him slowly, his nose wrinkling a little, but he gave no sign of disgust or anger. Well. Jesse could handle it if he was confused or something. It would be easier than a fight.

Well, she told herself, blushing to the max, you need to talk to him. Talk to him about what happened yesterday and explain to you, before the man started to draw his own conclusions and decided to dismiss him as a pervert, or something.

He needed this, the familiarity of the laboratory and its distraction so badly, especially after Jane's death, that he was willing to do anything to keep it.

Although there was still time to change identity, right?

"Listen, I want to talk to you about yesterday" He continued, biting his lip and resisting the urge to run away. "Look, yo, I know what it looked like. Me saying your name while ... well, while I was getting rid of my problem, it might look a little weird. But it's not what it sounds like, I, I swear. It's not like I'm thinking on you while jerking off, just ... I had a weird few weeks, okay? "

Which, of course, set aside the fact that Jesse had no justification for saying his name, in case she wasn't thinking of him. And Mr. White must have known, which is why he was looking at him as if a third eye had popped out.

"What?"

Jesse raised his eyebrows, feeling the heat creep up his face as he brought a hand to the back of his neck.

"Like I said, it wasn't my intention."

Mr. White blinked in confusion.

"Jesse, I ... did you say my name?"

"Yes, didn't you hear me?" Starting to get more and more nervous, Jesse shrugged. "Isn't that why you left?"

"No" Mr. White replied, looking at him with big hawk eyes, clearly petrified. "I got a call from Skyler to go sign the divorce papers, but I didn't want to interrupt your moment to let you know, so I left."

The boy's head, understanding the situation, began to turn.

Oh no no no no He should have let Mr. White speak. He had just practically exposed himself and admitted to the man that he masturbated thinking of him. That was so ...

The laboratory door opened, startling them. Gale walked in with a lopsided smile, as happy as the sun shining against the blue sky, and nodded towards them both.

"Walt, Jesse, I'm sorry I'm late, I was fixing some things."

No one answered. Jesse was too busy wishing the earth would swallow him up, while Mr. White was still staring at him.


	4. Chapter 4

Things were getting a little weird. Even Gale understood that something had happened between them, considering that they hardly looked at each other and, when they spoke, their voices sounded too formal, as if they didn't want to break through the professional barrier.

The environment, more humid than usual, was fraught with an acute tension that could have been broken with a knife: Jesse felt so bad, so uncomfortable in his own skin under the infinite gaze of Mr. White, that he had to take the reins of the matter and announce that he would move to another table for lunch, since, finally, he had bought new headphones.

Gale didn't seem to take it wrong, but Mr. White gave him an odd look. Jesse tried to ignore it the best he could, opening the junk food he usually brought and trying to focus on the amazing NWA songs. He still continued, however, looking back to see what his other two partners were doing.

The nerd was talking non-stop about the Lord of the Rings. Mr. White, nodding without paying attention, kept an eye on him.

Jesse flushed red and swiveled his chair again, his back to her. What a childish reaction. He was ashamed of himself, returning to his site with a sigh, and ended up deciding to take out his phone to play with an application that did not need the internet.

It was clear, however, that his bloody clever partner would want to get further muddled and clear things up.

"Hey, Jesse," Mr. White said, drumming his fingers on the metal surface to get their attention, with an awkward air that was unbecoming of him. "Do you have an idea what you are eating? You are not consuming any protein."

It was his strange way of starting a new conversation.

"Whatever, yo, it's delicious. Much more than those sandwiches you eat or" he faked a chill "coffee."

"You will understand these tastes when you are older"

"Oh, Mr. White, are you already an old man? How depressing."

He received a smile in return. Jesse got up on his heels and peered over the man's shoulder, but Gale wasn't looking his way, his eyes were fixed on the book of poems in front of him.

Jesse sat up carefully, feeling the heat rise up his neck and settle on his cheeks. Mr. White had come over just to speak to him.

"I am not an old man, I am just a mature person"

"Just like me" Jesse exclaimed, offended, before noticing that he had just hit the table like he was a small child.

Mr. White gave him a smug smile at his flushed cheeks. The damn smug.

Before he could add more, Gale's small, high-pitched voice interrupted him (Walt, I found the poem I was talking about!), Whereupon Mr. White had to ask Jesse for intantes and return to his other partner.

Jesse might have been upset, at least a little, if it weren't for the fact that Mr. White's phone was left on his desk. For an insane moment that he did not think clearly, he took it between his fingers and hurried to enter his contacts, scheduling himself with a big "X", then turned it off and put it back in place.

It was useless. Mr. White had his number, but on the cell phone he used for work, and Jesse, for some reason, felt the need to ... well, to do something silly, clearly.

He tried to hide his trembling when the man returned: Gale had returned to his reading with a small smile and Mr. White looked tired, as if he could no longer tolerate either of them, which did not prevent him from leaning over the surface and say;

"Look Jesse, I think we should talk"

"There is nothing to talk about, man, I promise" He answered, having that question prepared for days, when he stayed up until dawn, thinking about what he could say. "Really, we can forget about this and move on."

As if Jesse hadn't dreamed every night of Mr. White; as if he didn't yearn for his compliments the same way he yearned for his touch.

He faked a smile and nodded confidently.

"Yeah, well, it's been days and things don't seem to work themselves out" Mr. White muttered, glancing back briefly, afraid Gale might hear. "So what does it say if we talk about it at your house? Or some other place, where we don't have ... company"

Or a spy: Gale might be nice and flatter Mr. White, but he still worked for Gus.

"Mr. White" Jesse swallowed nervously. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why not?"

Oh sure, she had told the man it was a mistake to moan his name, even though she was having a fantasy with him.

How would you avoid it? If Mr. White went home alone, Jesse was sure things would get worse. It would escalate the situation in his strange mind, at least, and he would be the one who would spend his days with the blue balls because of Mr. White's presence. Although I don't want it to happen.

But, if he refused, what would he say? He had no excuse to feel so uncomfortable, it would be ridiculous.

"Well me, whatever you want" He finished by nodding, shrugging. "Tonight?"

Mr. White evaluated him for a moment.

"I'll bring food," he added, before turning around again and going back to Gale.

Food, like it's a fucking date.

\------------------------------------------

They left separately. Jesse came home like a tornado, weaving his way through the living room and hallway, picking up whatever was out of the way or trash.

He convinced himself over the last hour, making sure it would never be a date and thinking like that was ridiculous, but he still didn't want Mr. White to see the constant disorder that was invading his house and his mind. Even if I had seen him drugged before. He wanted to be as presentable as possible, for a reason that even himself didn't want to admit.

He tidied up the table, cleaned his silver once more, and made sure he had drinks. Beers, water, some soda that Badger had left the other day; I thought that would be enough. Buying wine or shit like that would be too pretentious, right? Even more so if he texted Mr. White and asked which one was his favorite.

It smelled of chemicals and cold sweat, so he ended up taking a quick shower, then slipping on his black jeans and a simple T-shirt. He had just finished putting on his second shoe when there was a knock on the door.

It was Mr. White. Jesse sprinted down the stairs and made sure the room was in order, feigning disinterest and relaxation as he opened the door, greeting the man with a toss of his chin.

"How are you, man?" He said, noting that Mr. White had changed his shirt for a basic black shirt, which fit him much better than those formal clothes he insisted on wearing. His jeans were the same as all the others he wore, but there was something strange about him, perhaps a more youthful and fresh air. "Please pass."

Please? What the hell, Jesse?

"Thank you" Mr. White smiled, looking at him strangely, "I, uh, brought Thai food. Okay?"

"Never a pizza, huh?" Jesse nodded, closing the door.

"I'd rather not die before my time due to all the fats that ..."

"They pile up, yeah, and blah blah blah" Jesse rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, it would be better to die while doing what you want."

"You say that until, in fact, you are about to die."

Jesse paused, remembering that, huh, even though he was in remission Mr. White had had cancer and probably thought he would die. He almost apologized, but Mr. White didn't seem upset, so he shrugged, raising an eyebrow.

"Leave the victim role, man, you have more money than any other dying man"

He had gone too far. She narrowed her eyes and made a pretense of apology when she noticed that Mr. White had just burst into laughter.

Laughed. For him.

"Good point".  
  
As they both moved into the kitchen, Jesse thought for a brief moment that he would like this dinner to be a date. It looked like it though, with the beers, the Thai food and the fact that they had both changed their usual clothes to wear, well, like it was a special occasion.

Although he should not fixate on things like that, especially when he was in front of him, with the ability to read his emotions at any moment.

"So" Jesse began, serving portions of food on their white ceramic plates, as well as opening beers for both of them, "You wanted to talk."

"Yes" Mr. White looked up at him, and Jesse wished he hadn't said anything, "I ... I want to talk about what happened."

Jesse giggled nervously, stuffing some food into his mouth, trying to evade as much as possible the moment to answer.

"It's not ... like I said before, it's not a big deal" He looked down, scratching his chin and shrugging, "I was, well, at one point a little ..."

"At a slightly sensitive moment" Mr. White completed, carefully, "And you said my name."

The boy felt his face burn. Got damn. He had no idea how he would get out of this, especially since his brain seemed to have melted, leaving him without excuses or coherence.

"It's all a little weird, me" Jesse offered, thinking it would be better if they finished faster and Mr. White went home earlier, "I had this dream, okay? Where did you appear?"

At the expression of the man in front of him, half horrified, half surprised, Jesse was quick to shake his head.

"No, no, no, nothing like ... nothing sexual.

We weren't naked, at least. "

"And how did you come to connect me with your masturbation?" Mr. White shook his hands and raised his eyebrows, the analysis in his eyes that came over him whenever he tried to decipher something.

"God" Jesse exclaimed, covering his eyes, "Don't say masturbation!"

"Masturbation"

"Wow man, very mature"

"Just ..." Mr. White clenched his jaw, "Just answer the question."

"The dream wasn't sexual, but it turned me on, okay? And it's not like I could pick something like that, yo, it just happened."

Mr. White frowned, still not quite understanding.

"It just happened" He repeated doubtfully.

"Yeah, and, when we were in the lab, you said something that made me remember it, so obviously I was excited too. It's not much of a complication. I swear I won't jerk off to you again."

As soon as he finished saying that, Jesse covered his face. Oh my God. Couldn't it be more sneaky, say something simpler? He had just fully admitted to him that she was thinking about him while masturbating.

"Oh, Jesse" Mr. White raised a hand to his forehead nervously and looked at the boy carefully. He was probably going to reject him or something, making Jesse feel even more ashamed.

Or so he thought.

"What was the dream about?"

"Excuse?"

"I'm curious" Mr. White raised an eyebrow, nodding carefully, "What was the dream about?"

Jesse didn't know what the hell to say. He could easily make an excuse, but he had told the man that they were not naked nor was it a sex dream, so it would be strange to look for something that did not have that context and could turn him on.

Then, under his insistent gaze, he shrugged. What difference does it make, he thought. Anyway, Mr. White already knew the worst part and would just think about it for a moment, finding it unpleasant, before going home. That easy.

"Compliments" he replied, raising one corner of his lip at the sight of him gagging on the water, "Like ... well, basically yes, the dream was based on you giving me compliments."

"Compliments" He repeated, overwhelmed, "Like, beautiful? Or pretty?"

Jesse chuckled.

"Think harder, Mr. White, and dirtier"

"Dirty? I don't know what kind of thing could ..." Then, he stopped, looking at Jesse with such a smile that Jesse, suddenly uncomfortable, grew smaller in his seat.

"Something like 'Good boy'?"

Jesse cracked his neck and started biting his thumb.

"Maybe."

"Good boy" Mr. White repeated, bewildered, as if he couldn't believe it, "And what else?"

"What the hell man? I was embarrassed enough already."

His face, in fact, turned completely red when Mr. White leaned across the table.

"I just want to know," he whispered, under his breath, and Jesse heard himself sigh.

"I don't know me, things like that." Good boy, "" You're doing fine "" Jesse flinched at the memory, which didn't go unnoticed by the calculating man in front of him, "Whatever."

Mr. White leaned back in his chair and smiled.

"Fascinating" He said, surprising the boy and looking completely satisfied, "Really."

Jesse was about to ask what he meant, self-conscious at his watchful eye, but the man was quick to change the subject entirely:

"So" he said, as if they hadn't finished talking about Jesse jerking off and moaning his name, "How are you doing with rehab meetings?"

Sometimes Mr. White was really weird.


	5. Chapter 5

While they waited for Gus's old assistant, Mike, to come get the last batch of methamphetamine to be delivered, Jesse leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

Mr. White was somewhat obsessed with Gus, control and how Gus always seemed to want to tell him what to do, which he hated, but Jesse found it comforting not to have to do more than cook and then go home, considering that before, he must have. be he who went down to the streets. It was an easy process: they gave him the drug, the guy distributed it, and they received millions, even if it was a small amount compared to what Gus actually made.

Gale, who didn't seem to understand the definition of silence, paced back and forth, nervous to see Mr. White even more serious and grumpy than normal.

"Then Walt, you can imagine that I didn't answer" He would say, completely baffling Jesse, who had lost the thread of the conversation, "I mean, it's a total disrespect for chemistry."

"Of course"

"Students can be very frustrating at times." Gale didn't seem to give up, determined to get the slightest reaction out of Walt, who just nodded, "I'm sorry Jesse, but it's a general truth."

"Not me, I was a pretty cool student"

Mr. White snorted, glaring at him over his shoulder with raised eyebrows.

"Don't look at me like that, Mr. White, the problem is that you were too bitter. Everyone loved Pinkman."

Chuckling, his old chemistry professor shook his head, and something in his face, laughing, warm, and almost loving, made Jesse have the irresistible and insane temptation to throw himself at his feet.

"It wasn't what I heard in the teachers' lounge" The man replied, still smiling, and his body leaned towards Jesse's almost voluntarily.

It was strange. They never talked about the old days, especially those, when Jesse occupied the back desk and insisted on throwing balls of paper at Mr. White's head when he turned to the blackboard.

"Dude, those teachers were devils. No wonder they didn't admire God as they should."

Gale nearly fell on his ass when Mr. White laughed, nodding slowly. He looked shocked and a little hurt.

Jesse, feeling a wild movement in his chest, hid a satisfied smile behind his suit, but Mr. White, who at that very moment had turned around, managed to see it.

Something in his gaze turned slightly calculating. In moments like these, Jesse could only see Heisenberg and everything he stood for: They stood still, looking at each other carefully, until Mr. White spoke, his expression softening:

"Gale" He said, "You did very well today"

Almost automatically, Jesse frowned.

Gale got it right? Gale, the same person who spent the day talking and not him, when he stood by Mr. White and did as he asked from head to toe?

What the hell, man. He crossed his arms and leaned his back against the wall, feeling a bit of an idiot for being so irritated, but unable to help himself.

And Mr. White was smiling. Jesse couldn't stop to think much about what it meant, because soon the door to the lab opened and old Mike, along with two other assistants, came down the stairs and came over.

The last time he had seen the man was when Jane died, so Jesse was not entirely comfortable around him.

He sood aside, rolling his eyes when he heard Gale offer to help, always so kind, and only turned slightly when Mr. White raised his voice. It is not as if the man never got angry, because he seemed to have zero self-control, but at that moment it was different, since he sounded indignant.

And Jesse, for a few moments, was too.

"Why does Gus want to install cameras?" Mr. White exclaimed, raising his hand, as Mike gazed at him with droopy eyelids, "That completely disrupts the privacy of our work!"

"We are not going to steal your formula, Walter, calm down" His voice was firm, brutally honest and also a little angry, as always when Mike addressed Mr. White. He didn't seem to like him very well, "It's just for safety."

"Security?"

That annoyed him even more, if possible.

"Yeah, Gus wants to make sure everything is okay" Mike stepped forward and raised his eyebrows, inviting Mr. White to argue.

It was clear that the battle was lost. If Gus wanted it that way, things would be like that. Jesse dropped his shoulders forward and sighed, biting his lip as Mr. White nodded furiously.

"Next time, you can tell me about it earlier."

"There will be no next time" Mike snapped, "You promised yourself."

Oh, he understood more clearly now, and judging from Mr. White's expression, so did he.

This was all due to those two Gus associates, who had murdered Andrea's brother, someone Jesse no longer saw. He continued to bring her money, but his life, and what he made of it, was not a good influence for those who tried to support their family and recover from addiction, so he kept his distance, without feeling as sad as he had hoped.

He still brought them money, if necessary. Jesse had grown fond of them, especially Bruck, and he didn't want to let them drift.

But Gus, of course, hadn't liked his little performance, especially when they'd had a previous meeting in an attempt to "fix" things with the gang. Just the fact that Mr. White talked to him, and threatened to quit if he didn't let him go back to work, Jesse kept coming to the lab, although part of the deal also included working alongside Gale's nerd.

It was a fifty / fifty. He was once again a partner of Mr. White, just as Gus had forgiven him, but he still had to put up with Gale and his obsession with Star Wars and poetry. Although it was good, inside everything. Maybe he was ... well, too jealous.

It was hard for him to even admit it to himself. I could not believe it. Jealous of Mr. White? If someone had told him long ago, he would have laughed out loud.

"Can you believe this?" Speaking of Rome, Mr. White dismissed Mike with tight lips and walked over to him, probably trying to find comfort in Jesse's outrage, "Cameras?"

"I guess they don't trust us very much."

"But this ... this is our workspace" Jesse almost smiled, although he managed to resist seeing that the man was really furious about it, staring at the spot where Mike had been with narrowed eyes, "They can't invade him like this. If we feel constantly watched, we will never be in our element. "

Yes, they can, Jesse thought, but he closed his mouth and searched for what to say.

He didn't like it when Mr. White was angry. He didn't seem to be himself, although even Jesse had no idea what that meant: he liked him, however, when he laughed, he tried to explain tedious chemistry things to him, as if he really hoped Jesse was smart enough to understand, complimented him or he smiled knowingly, knowing they both shared secrets that Gale could never know.

Then, making an effort to remember last night's Google search, which he did under the crazy idea of getting closer to the man (even though he knew it was dumb, from an elementary school kid, and would never work), he muttered:

"Do you have an extra electron or something?" At his words, Mr. White looked at him in unprecedented confusion, momentarily forgetting his fury. Well, it was Jesse's main goal; "Because you are so negative."

The corner of Mr. White's lip turned up unexpectedly.

"Chemistry puns, Jesse?" His voice was expressionless.

"You're finally in your element, yo"

Mr. White actually laughed.

\-----------------------------------------------

" _Well done, Gale"_  
 _"Look at that, the ideal companion"_  
 _"You remembered the correct temperature!"_  
 _"That's great"_

And Jesse, meanwhile, could only clench his fists and wonder: Really?

What kind of game was Mr. White playing? Not even on the first day of association, when Gale, to Jesse's bitterness, operated the machines more easily than either of them received so many compliments.

Clearly, it had something to do with dinner a few nights ago. Mr. White had decided to go into devil mode and was looking for every single word to make Jesse explode, even though the boy tried to hide his anger and irritation as much as possible.

What was he looking for, precisely? Piss him off? Make him quit? Drive him crazy? Because, if so, he was starting to get there.

Jesse believed that Mr. White and his sudden admiration for Gale would be worse than it had in weeks, but changed his mind when, in the middle of the night, he woke up gasping. He had just had another dream. But, to his damn misfortune, it wasn't about Mr. White.

He crawled across his damp sheets and ran to the bathroom, where he knelt in front of the toilet and bent down to vomit. The whole room was spinning and he had the appearance of being brighter than normal, making Jesse's head ache and his eyes flicker under exhaustion.

Jane Jane Jane Jane

Perhaps he did not love her with the same intensity with which he had loved her, but guilt still gnawed at his chest.

She died for her. In other words, he killed her.

If he had not been drugged, if he had not been irresponsible and heeded Mr. White's words, things could have been different and Jane, at that moment, could be in some recovery facility, with the care and love of her father.

Jesse leaned over and vomited again as soon as his stomach churned, groaning in disgust. God, he was a horrible person, especially when, even now, he wanted so much the oblivion that drugs could provide.

Sometimes everything was very difficult. He wanted to lie on the bed, smoke, and stay there, alone, because it was a place where no one would judge him and he or other people were in danger.

Before Jesse could hold him back, he burst into tears. He wrapped one arm around his small stomach and brought the other to his hair, pausing momentarily when his treacherous mind, wanting to sink it further, reminded him that he had a small crystal bag on the table under his bed.

Jesse didn't want to, but he still crawled on the ground, brusquely wiping his tears.

He was about to touch the wooden board, under which the temptation was kept, when he accidentally pulled the sheet and it fell to the ground, along with his phone: the device wobbled with a clink before stopping. Jesse stared at him, doubting greatly.

It was a struggle of self-control that lasted for whole minutes, but he finally found himself with the phone pressed to his ear, half crying, half ashamed of himself. When the person on the other end of the phone answered, there was no going back.

"Mr. White?" He asked, sniffing, "God, I'm so sorry, I know you don't want me to ever call you and you probably don't even know I have this number, but ... could you come over?"


	6. Chapter 6

Jesse found himself sprawled on the ground, clutching his chest like he'd just had a heart attack. He was still crying, knew it by the tears that ran down his cheeks and ended on his lower lip, leaving a salty trail behind, but he didn't try to move. He believed that, at the slightest impulse to stand up or look for his cell phone, to see if Mr. White had refused (Jesse, panicked, had cut off his call before hearing his answer), he would end up crawling under the bed , with the lighter ready.

However, he did move when he heard someone knock on the door. It was a small bump, as if the person was afraid to wake him up if he made more noise, and Jesse, desperately hopeful, crawled on his ankles and stood up, wiping his tears with the sleeves of his baggy T-shirt.

He went down the stairs carefully, wondering, even though he wanted to see him, if it would be a good idea for Mr. White to see him in that state. There was a line, and on one side of it was work and laboratory, but on the other side was the personal, the life of each one. Sure, they knew every detail of the other, but they never ... they spoke. Not about Mrs. White or Jesse's life. They were distant, but close at the same time.

He was willing to break up with everything. He just needed a damn hug and someone to assure him, even if he never believed it, that it wasn't his fault.

When he opened the door, he was met by Mr. White and his expression of infinite concern, pushing him even more towards the intense urge he possessed to cry.

"Man, hello" He greeted, uncomfortable, and stood aside so the other could pass, "I'm sorry ... I'm sorry I woke you up"

Mr. White stopped in the middle of the room and turned to him with big confused eyes. He didn't seem angry, irritated or anything like that, just ... he just seemed to want explanations.

"Jesse" The other whispered, coming a little closer and taking him by the shoulders, "Have you been crying? Why? What happened?"

Then, with lightning speed, his gaze slid down the stairs and his face hardened.

"Did Gus do something to you?" he added, beginning to rage.

"What? No, Mr. White, Gus didn't ..." He shook his head. Gus had done nothing to him; it was him, it was all his fault. But how could he explain it? "I had a bad dream."

He was an idiot. Jesse let out a sigh, flopping onto the couch and burying his face in his hands, as if he could hide his embarrassment. He must have called Skinny Pete, who was probably at some block party, and distracted himself with beer and girls. Yes. Why the hell had he felt the dire need to be and be comforted by Mr. White?

"Forget it," he started, biting his lip and rocking forward, remembering, briefly, the crystal bag. If Mr. White left, his self-control would fade. But Jesse didn't have the will to ask the one to stay: he'd sound like an idiot, a fool who couldn't even bear a simple temptation, "I'm sorry I bothered you."

I think it would be all there, but Mr. White sat next to him, sighing under his breath.

"Okay, Jesse, you can talk to me." She said, surprising him, "I couldn't sleep either anyway. Too much stress."

"Tell me about that" Jesse laughed, before his expedition went dark again and the fun died, "It's not that bad, I think I was overdoing it. I was tired and ..."

Mr. White gave him an impassive look.

_"Jesse."_

"Good man, for God's sake. You're fucking scary sometimes" he huffed and shook his head, "I dreamed of Jane, okay? About her death."

Mr. White instantly understood part of the seriousness of the problem. He, after all, had been there when Jesse cried and claimed he loved her, days after his death, in the middle of a dirty drug den.

"I'm really sorry Jesse" He said, surprising them both, because Mr. White never apologized with anything, "I don't think I ever told you, but I'm really, really sorry."

The tension disappeared. Thus, as if nothing else, he found himself crying again, whereupon Mr. White took him by the shoulders and pulled him to his chest, protecting him with his arms.

It was so strange. Jesse had dreamed many times of touching the man, usually involved in some sexual context, but in that instant, hiding his face between the hollow of his neck and his jaw, he could only think of the warmth that Mr. White displayed.

"Sometimes" he began, in a whisper that threatened to get lost in the man's shirt, "I think it was my fault, you know? You were right, you were always right. If I had listened to you, if I hadn't blackmailed you and you'd still have mymoney, maybe ... "

"We cannot live in the past, Jesse, because we will never become something in the future" He said, reaching a hand and running it through the strands of his hair, at which Jesse closed his eyes, feeling a thread of heat creep through his chest, "It wasn't your fault, okay? You couldn't have known what would happen."

"But I could still have done something" He replied, much calmer than before, making a move to sit up, "I could still have told her not to use drugs, especially knowing that she… God, if we had waited one more day she might be in some rehab center, along with her father."

"Jesse, you can't blame yourself for what you could have done while in such a state. I know you would have protected her, because you're that kind of person, but you were also ... you were an addict too."

"I know," Jesse blurted out, breathing through his nose, though that didn't help the sharp pain in his chest subside, "But, me, I could have done a lot better. The addict meeting coordinator says we should accept ourselves as we are, but I don't believe that shit; I'm going to change who I am, I don't want to end up destroying everything I touch. "

He had finally said it. He carried those words stuck in his chest, trying to free himself and, thus, release all his frustrations and pain.

Mr. White gave him a peaceful look, almost surprised, and did not reply for a long time. He ran a hand over his shoulders and held him close, closer than Jesse thought he would want him, resting his chin on Jesse's forehead carefully. The intimacy of the moment brought chills to the younger boy, especially after the many dreams and compliments he had hidden in his mind.

"You are brave" Mr. White finally said.

Jesse snorted.

"Don't say shit, Mr. White, I'm still me."

"Exactly," the man muttered, so low that Jesse had to lean in to hear him better, closing the distance even further, "You've always been the bravest of the two of us."

It took Mr. White a few moments to look up, but when he did, he met Jesse's deep blue eyes, laden with honesty and something akin to devotion. They were so close that the tension could have been cut off with a knife, but instead of separating and ruining the moment, as part of his mind seemed to tell Jesse, he leaned forward and kissed him.

It barely lasted a second.

Mr. White hurried away, startled, and was on his feet before the boy could stop him. Jesse watched him with a giddy feeling in his stomach, waiting, with raw anguish, for the man to approach the door and leave: however, he simply backed up to the wall and put his hands to his face, as if If the situation was based on accounts and methamphetamine and Mr. White was analyzing it to fix it.

But no, it was just Jesse.

Jesse, who had just kissed him.

"Know what?" He asked, standing up and trying to appear as calm as possible, despite his heart beating surprisingly fast and fear closing in his throat, "It was silly to ask you to come, I'm sorry."

"No, Jesse, wait" Mr. White took his shoulder and looked at him carefully, as if his words might break it, "I want to help you, but this ... I don't know if it's a good idea to do this when you're like this."

"So?"

"Sad" He replied, "You can do things you don't want and the last thing I want is for us to be on bad terms again."

"We won't be, me" He replied, laughing at the concern on Mr. White's face, "If you want to do it, we will. You know how I feel about it."

"Yes" Mr. White raised the corner of his lip and nodded, "Well done, good boy, amazing assistant Jesse."

"I just changed my mind" Jesse said, rolling his eyes, although a small smile escaped him that softened the other's expression.

"But, even if I say yes," Mr. White began, surprising him, "What would you want to do, exactly?"

Jesse hadn't thought about it. She wanted, yes, she wanted everything and much more than Mr. White could give her, but she didn't know how to answer that question precisely.

Have sex with him? It was strange to think about it. Jesse wasn't a virgin, but she had never been with a man; if they could, maybe, start with something smaller, maybe not so significant.

"You already know" Mr. White continued, "Tell me."

Jesse decided to stop being embarrassed and play the same game, especially seeing the man so calm.

"Why?" He smiled, "It's not like you're going to say yes, is it?"

The man took a step forward and returned the smile slowly, clearly enjoying the challenge. Although Mr. White was probably the most dominant and manipulative man Jesse knew, he also knew that he loved anything that challenged him and made him think: he had shown, more than once, that he hated monotony and what did not make him feel different. . Well, Jesse could give him that; he loved to contradict people, especially if his frustration was as funny as Mr. White's.

"Well, I was initially going to say no ..." Mr. White muttered, "But you could convince me."

Oh, and there it was. Jesse smiled so heartily that the man seemed surprised at his excitement. Well, he loved teasing too. He'd done it with girls before, and somehow he didn't think it would be much different with Mr. White.

However, before he could put into practice the plan that was beginning to form in his mind, Mr. White patted his shoulder carefully and nodded, as if they had just had a boring talk about the weather. Then, under Jesse's gaze, he walked to the door.

"As you wish, Jesse" She added, standing in the doorway, turning slightly to see him, "See you tomorrow I guess."

And he left.

Had he just challenged him?

Smiling, Jesse flopped onto the couch. Good, he thought; for the first time, Mr. White would fall before him.

**Author's Note:**

> BTW, Walt is not at Jesse's house while Jane dies, nor does he watch her die. It seemed a bit twisted to me that they were together after that.  
> Nothing else changes in the plot!


End file.
